


The Other People Who Are Us

by tielan



Category: Bourne (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Pacific Rim
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Airport Lounge, Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Clint is bored, F/M, Gen, Hostage Situation, Maria is a BAMF, Natasha is bored, Partnership, The Drift (Pacific Rim), natasha is a bamf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1428499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In other times and spaces, the people we are remain us...just a little different.<b><br/><span class="u">a set of AU ficlets</span><br/></b><br/>1. <b>She Never Says "I Love You"</b> - MCU: Maria Hill/Steve Rogers (Bank Robbery AU)<br/>2. <b>Bored Now</b> - MCU: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff (Airport Lounge AU)<br/>3. <b>You Never Die In Your Dreams</b> - Pacific Rim: Mako Mori & Raleigh Becket (Rescuing abducted children AU)<br/>4. <b>Shop Talk</b> - MCU: Maria Hill & Pepper Potts (Lawyers AU)<br/>5. <b>Name of a Stranger</b> - Bourne: Jason & Nicky (Pretending to be your BFF in a bar AU)<br/>6. <b>Strangers On A Train </b> - Mako Mori/Raleigh Becket (Strangers On A Train AU)<br/>7. <b>Under A Sky So Blue</b> - Mako Mori/Raleigh Becket (Crime Syndicate AU)><br/>8. <b>Past Due</b> - Phil Coulson & Maria Hill (Bookstore AU)<br/>9. <b>Something Borrowed</b> - Mako Mori & Raleigh Becket (Almost Human AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Never Says "I Love You"

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'AU meme' - pick an AU and I'll write a snippet/scenario or a plotbunny. These are the snippets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was kind of sort of going to be more of this AU - in particular an exchange where it was made a little clearer that Clint and Nat are together by Maria explaining that Nat got antsy because she was _not_ going to miss her first Date Night in _months_.

The phone rang at the twenty-eight minute mark, two minutes earlier than agreed.

Steve was expecting it early.

He wasn't expecting the voice on the other end of the phone – feminine, cool, and intimately familiar.

"This is Detective Maria Hill, NYPD, Station 914, Badge Number 3148. The terrorists would like to announce their surrender."

Silence. Then, somewhere in the back of the CNU van, someone spluttered with sudden laughter.

"This is Rogers." He was proud that he managed to get that out. His heart had been bruising itself against his ribcage for the last half-hour, knowing she was in there, but unable to ascertain that she was okay, having to trust that she could handle herself. Having to handle the terrorists over the phone with the calm expected of a police negotiator.

And now, hearing her voice... "Please repeat that last, Detective Hill. The terrorists want to _surrender_?"

"They've seen the error of their ways and are willing to hand themselves over to the NYPD."

Behind Steve, someone sniggered. Barton grinned, even as his shoulders relaxed fractionally. Behind them, Fury raised his one eye heavenwards and shook his head.

Steve closed his eyes and let himself grin as Maria continued, brisk and droll.

"The hostages are all physically fine with the exception of two guards – one is injured, the other is dead. We'll need EMTs for them and four of the terrorists. Counsellors would be advised for the hostages; Romanoff wasn't exactly…polite in taking the terrorists down."

Steve winced. He'd been on the polite end of Nat's hand-to-hand – the one she used to train recruits – and it came under the heading of 'extremely painful'.

"Copy that, Detective. The standard SWAT team will be coming in to clear the building as per SOP."

"We'll have our hands and badges in sight."

"We'll send Barton in for the visual," Steve assured her, even as Fury started giving orders, and Barton hopped for his cohort. "It's good to hear from you, Detective." That was about as much as he could say on an open line and it felt like little enough.

Until she replied with the faintest hint of a smile in her voice. "Ditto, Rogers."


	2. Bored Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An airport lounge at 2am. A delayed flight. There are many ways this could end.
> 
> This is one that won't get them arrested. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame Alphaflyer for this one: _"stuck-in-an-airport-because-the-flights-were-SO-VERY-delayed-and-it’s-like-two-am" (which isn't so much AU as it's my life, incidentally ...) starring Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, please ..._

“Bored, now.”

“And I was nearly asleep.”

“You can’t sleep in these seats; it’s not possible.”

“Says the woman who fell asleep balanced on a paling fence.”

“We were never going to talk about that again. Besides I have a pack of cards. And two tins of mints.” Natasha fishes around in her purse for a moment longer. “Three.”

Clint gives her a long, measuring look. “You really want to do this here?”

“Come on, Clint – it’s not like it’s strip poker.”

A minute later, they have an audience.

Two minutes later, they have an audience making bets.

Five minutes and forty-seven seconds later, security comes around to see what’s going on.

Nat grins and snaps another card in the air. From five yards away, Clint licks a mint and flicks it at the card. There's a _thwap_ and the card lands with a mint stuck firmly on the face of the Jack of Hearts, to much applause.

 


	3. You Never Die In Your Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is not generally permitted for one of the Taken to be allowed to Rescue. Mako Mori understands the risks, and she is willing to Drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU Meme: request by hiddencait _Pacific Rim "teaming up to rescue respective abducted children."_

Mako has always been a little surprised that _sensei_ allowed her to join the team. It is not generally permitted for one of the Taken to be allowed to Rescue.

But she is here and she is not complaining. Just...uncertain. This is her first drop, and while her partner has solid experience, he has not been allowed to Drift for many years – not since his brother died in the Zone.

 _Sensei_ is taking a risk with them both, but the risk is greater for Mako, and she understands that very well.

A nudge at her shoulder turns her head, and Raleigh Becket lifts one dark blond eyebrow. _All okay?_

She twitches a little – the tiniest of shrugs. _Nervous._

He smiles, slight and somehow more intense than if he grinned. The Drift – a dream-like state of connection between two Rescuers – gives Mako the sense of his thoughts even as it gives him the sense of hers. _You’ll do fine._

Raleigh’s certainty bolsters her. She lets it sink into her – the trust and affection seeping into her bones.

She wishes she could retain that certainty.

Mako still remembers Onibaba: shadows and spines, the way the city bled around her – a grey, oozing thing that formed up twenty metres in front of her and melted behind her as Onibaba swallowed it whole.

Adults have the screen of reality to shield them from the worst of the _kaiju_ , but even they are not immune. But the young and impressionable have no defences. As it is, Rescuers need to undergo multiple tests before being permitted to enter the Zone – and even then, they utilise the Drift – the anchoring spirit and soul of another person to hold them fast through the nightmares.

 _Stay in the Drift,_ Raleigh murmurs as they reach the edge of the Zone. _Let’s do this, Mako._

She holds out her hand to him, palm upwards, and his fingers close over her. _Let’s go_.


	4. Talking Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maria buys the martini, and Pepper provides the provocation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by marienska: "Maria & Pepper, lawyers AU."

Maria had the martini – very dry, lots of olives – all ready when Pepper strode up. "How did the case against Hammer go?"  
  
"He folded like a pack of cards," Pepper said with more than a little satisfaction as she hung her bag and coat on the little hook under the bar top made for exactly that purpose. "With a little help from Natalie. Are you sure I can't steal her?"  
  
"You can try." Maria's mouth quirked in what amounted to a grin for her, and lifted her champagne. "To beating down slimy-faced assholes with no morals."  
  
Pepper clinked her glass against Maria's and drank to the toast. "So, does 'slimy faced assholes with no morals' include Tony?"  
  
"Not at all. He comes under 'charming bastards with all the sexual morals of a cat.' Which," she added hastily, "is not an invitation for you to tell me how he purrs when you pat him right."  
  
"I would never take it as such. Of course," Pepper added, "if you want to over-share about Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Good With His Hands, feel free."  
  
As Pepper took another sip of her martini, she had to admit there was a certain satisfaction in watching Maria Hill, Bitch-Lawyer Extraordinaire, blush like a sixteen year-old girl fresh from Catholic school.


	5. Name of a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you want to vanish into the night after this, I understand. If you’d like to stay and have a drink...I’d like that, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU meme: scribblemyname asked for: _Bourne Movies, 'i'm pretending to be ur bff bc u looked VERY uncomfortable with that person at the bar hitting on u' AU, Jason and Marie or Nicky_

The problem with Desh was that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He kept wheedling, rapidly edging from ‘annoyance’ into ‘stalking asshole’.

Nicky began looking for exits about the time he wanted her cellphone number. By which he meant he wanted her cellphone so he could type his number in and call himself so he had _her_ number.

“Nicky!” A guy she’d never seen came up, and slung an arm around her shoulder. “It’s good to see you! Marie didn’t think you’d be here tonight—She’s outside, having a cigarette. Oh hey,” he grins at Desh, charming and somehow smilingly dangerous. “I’m Jason. Sorry to steal Nicky away, but this crowd is awful and we’ve been looking for her all night.”

It was an excuse. Nicky took it.

They were halfway to the door leading out to the bar garden before she asked, “Do I know you?”

He glances back at her, amused. “No.”

“So how did you know my name?”

“I overheard it when he was hitting on you. You looked like you could do with an escape.” His expression is understanding as they reach the door. “If you want to vanish into the night after this, I understand. If you’d like to stay and have a drink...I’d like that, too.”

Outside, the air is cooler, fresher. Nicky takes a deep, gulping breath of it. “So is Marie really here?”

“No.” His expression twitches, an old pain. “Marie’s dead.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, gently. Then, “I can do at least one drink.”

He doesn’t quite smile – she has a feeling he doesn’t smile much any more. “Don’t you even want to know my name?”

“Maybe I’ll make one up for you.”

“And what would you call me?”

“Jason Bourne.”

He seems amused. “Jason Bourne it is, then.”


	6. Strangers On A Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm still going through these. colls instigated this one: _Any Pacific Rim character, on a train together and the train is stopped in the middle of nowhere for some reason AU_.

Her anxiety over the train seating turns out to be unwarranted.

Raleigh Becket is good company on a long trip – at least, by Mako’s standards. He chats when the need is felt, has no problem with remaining silent, and doesn’t stare at her breasts. Not that she has much of a figure, but some men stare all the same.

It additionally helps that he is blond, handsome, and good-looking. Vanessa would say ‘built like a fucking Greek god – with emphasis on the fucking’ and ogle to her heart’s content, but Mako is not Vanessa – to be so open in her appreciation.

Still, she cannot help but let her eyes linger, smiling as he tells a story of himself and his brother playing as kids in the Alaskan snow.

“…nothing like the desert out here,” he says, looking out at the Nullarbor Plains with their scrubby hills and treeless horizons as they soar past the train outside. He glances at Mako, smiling. “It’s beautiful, though.”

“A different kind of beauty,” she agrees. “Chuck says that the Nullarbor was once an inland sea, long ago. Explorers would try to reach the west from the east, but many died before one made it through.” She thinks of Chuck’s dire pronouncements that their bleached bones still lay half-covered by the endless sand and smiles.

“Chuck,” Raleigh says, his smile growing careful and polite. “Your boyfriend?”

Mako laughs. “Oh, no! My brother.” She can almost hear him thinking that ‘Chuck’ is not a very Japanese name and adds, “ _Step_ brother.”

“Ah.” He relaxes a little, and she looks quickly away, staring out the window at the brilliant red-dust desert stretching out beneath the vivid blue sky until he asks, “Your dad remarried?”

“Yes.” It is the simplest explanation, without going into years of trouble and complications regarding the legal status of their relationship. “He and Herc are good for each other. And good for Chuck. Stable.”

“And you? You like…Herc?”

“Yes. Herc is ‘good people’, as he would say. Although not of himself,” she adds, thinking of her stepfather with fondness. “He is very modest about his accomplishments.”

“Sounds like a good guy to have in the family.”

“You did not—Your mother did not remarry?”

“No.” Raleigh glances out the window and the sunlight’s gleam from outside throws a stark brightness across his features, showing clear the sudden pain in his expression. “She dated a little but it wasn’t easy with two half-grown sons. And…when I was a kid she said that a LaPierre falls in love only once, and hard at that.”

“But you are a Becket.”

“Half of one, anyway.” His smile is slow and easy, his gaze warm where it rests on her, and the sudden warmth on her face has nothing to do with the hot Australian sun.

It is one thing to be attracted to a good-looking man; quite another to realise he is attracted back. And...awkward. They are on this train for another two days yet. They have thus far been companionable. Mako hopes that will not change – avoiding him for two days in such close quarters will be very difficult.

So it is with much relief that Mako greets Raleigh’s change of topic, telling her about how an argument with his mother’s side of the family landed him out in the mining fields of Australia from the snowy wastes of Alaska after his brother’s death.

“It’s not quite the ends of the earth,” he says. “But it’s far enough that they’re out of my hair and I’m out of theirs. And I always wanted to see the world.”

Something about the way he says it makes Mako think he’s remembering something about his brother. “You were going to travel with Yancy?”

“Yeah. We made some good money those first couple of years. We figured we’d do a few more years and then head out, see the world. But then Yancy’s number came up, and now it’s just me.”

He says it lightly, but his loss is in his expression.

“You are travelling for both of you.”

“I guess.” He pauses a moment, then turns to her with a luminous smile. “That’s a good way to look at it. Thanks.”

Mako hesitates, then chooses to share. “Sometimes I think of my parents and how they would look at my life – what I have done.” At his confused frown, she elaborates further. “They died in an earthquake when I was eleven. _Sensei_ adopted me a year later. But they were engineers, too – and I would pester them when I was little, asking what this did or that did, or how things could be made better.”

“You became an engineer yourself to honour their memory?”

“Yes.” And she is very good at it, although she would not say so to Raleigh Becket.

“Mori...” He lingers on the name a moment. “You designed the mining matrices for the Marandoo mine, didn’t you?” Raleigh sits up, eyes wide. “The ones that held up when Yandicoogina collapsed?”

“Yes.” Mako drops her gaze.

“You saved lives.”

“It was just my design,” she says, a little embarrassed by his enthusiasm. “Others put it into action.”

“But they wouldn’t have had anything if you hadn’t thought of it in the first place.” Raleigh tilts his head. “Hey, come on, you’ve got a right to be proud of yourself. I bet your family will be when they hear about it.”

“They already know.” And Herc was unstinting in his praise, while she could hear the smiling pride in _sensei’s_ soft, ‘ _Very good, Mori-san._ ’ Chuck had grumbled that she was going to get a big head, but that was just Chuck’s way.

Raleigh is grinning at her, that warm smile that makes her stomach curl a little. “So are they waiting for you in Sydney, then? A big homecoming for the prodigal daughter?”

Mako laughs. “Maybe dinner.”

“At home or out?”

“Oh, home. Cooking is a passion of _sensei_ , and Herc has become a convert since Masterchef.” So has Chuck, although he would never admit it. Still, Mako has caught him contemplating souffle recipes in Herc’s cookbooks, so he is not immune to the craze.

“Do you cook?”

“I can burn rice. In a rice cooker.”

“Oh, ouch.” Raleigh stretches out his legs and hooks his hands in his beltloops, grinning. “So you’d know all the good places to eat in Sydney?”

“All of them,” she says, prompt and droll.

“Good. You’ll have to take me to your favourite. I’ll pay. That is,” his expression shifts, “if you want to meet up once you’re home. I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Mako smiles, appreciating that he gave her an out, but not wishing to take it. “No,” she assures him, “I would like that.”

“Great.” His smile holds something that shivers in her belly. “You can have until Sydney to change your mind, though. Just in case.”

They chat until the sun sets in a magnificent display of light and colour, and part ways to their individual cabins. Mako falls asleep to the hum of the train’s engines, speeding her through the night, and breakfasts to the warm sunshine of Raleigh’s smile.

When they pull into Sydney Central station two days later, Raleigh has made his interest plain – although he’s not pushing her either, and Mako hasn’t changed her mind about meeting up. Perhaps more will come of it, perhaps nothing will. But she is willing to try.

As they pass through the ticket gates on their way out to the station concourse, Raleigh glances around. “Is your family here?”

Mako peers through the press of people, looking for familiar faces, familiar strides.  _Sensei_ is noticeable, but he is busy and cannot always come. “Yes,” she says, glimpsing Herc’s reddish head and the easy wave of one big hand, before she turns back to Raleigh. “Thursday night, then?”

“I’m looking forward to it already.” He starts to bend down, pauses, then continues, his lips brushing her cheek with a tender care. “Take care, Mako.”

She meets his eyes and smiles, blushing. “You, too, Raleigh.”


	7. Blood And Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven billion people in the world, most of them Raleigh’s type, and the one whose fingers tangle in his heartstrings is Pentecost’s daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I think of as the "Crime Syndicate AU", where Stacker is the head of a Pan-Pacific organised crime ring... And yes, there is a kind of crossover with Sons of Anarchy. Because.

They’re several miles out of town before either of them speak. Mako is silent because she’s driving. Raleigh is silent because there’s nothing he can say that won’t make everything about this worse.

“So it is true.” Mako looks over at him. “He is your brother.”

“ _Yancy_ was my brother.” Raleigh curses the sharpness in his voice. “Teller is blood, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. I did not mean—”

“No. It’s not your fault. I reacted badly.” He shouldn’t have snapped. She understands where he’s coming from, she just picked an unfortunate example and it stings. It stings as sharply as Jax’s sneer, _Do you really think Pentecost will let a Teller fuck around with his little princess?_

Mako’s not a princess. Raleigh’s not a Teller. And he’s not fucking around.

He looks over at Mako, at the proud and lovely features that she accentuates with the short, sharp swing of her hair, the splash of blue in her sidelocks a startling colourpoint to the scarlet of her lipstick and the linen white of her shirt.

He looks away before she sees him staring.

She drives calmly, like there isn’t a bruise forming on her cheek, like she didn’t just make an enemy, like she hasn’t just burned Pentecost’s bridges in the south-west like California brushfires in the summer. Like her heart’s not pounding at how narrow an escape they had back there. He can see the pulse jumping in her throat.

It matches the beat his own fears, of the desire that thrums in his veins.

He kept his hands to himself when she put the moves on him in Lima, high as a kite and needy as a cat in heat. Her mouth hovering over his, poppy-bright and tongue-slick. _Don’t you want me?_ And he’d found the strength to put her off, even though it left him in a sleepless lather, dreaming of what he’d refused.

He’d been good on the way into the States. Giving her privacy. Not letting his imagination or his hands wander. Watching her work, learning how she planned and prepared, seeing her steel herself to face the world – a beautiful woman, yes, but intensely private, and lethal behind the beauty.

And then California happened. A lazy morning in suburbia, a façade of ordinary, and a neighbour who couldn’t keep his eyes to himself and didn’t look like he would keep his hands to himself, either.

 _Hey, Mako?_ _I’ll be in the shower when you’re done at the door._

It had been an reckless invitation – a stupid, dangerous impulse. She’d blushed and stammered out introductions with just enough embarrassment to make it all look real. The neighbour had stared daggers at Raleigh, but he’d backed away.

And afterwards, Raleigh went for his shower, leaving the bedroom door ajar and the bathroom door unlocked, and hoping...

But she hadn’t joined him.

“Will he come after you?”

It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, far away from the conversation in the car.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” He doesn’t know his brother – _half-_ brother – well enough to say. He’d never had to face Jax before – not really. Yancy was always there; bravado enough for both of them, Raleigh’s anchor to what was _family_.

He’d never needed anything other than Yancy.

_Blood on his hands, on his clothes, on the floor – so much blood, and the limp body sprawled in a way that seemed…unreal._

“Raleigh.”

Her touch is cool and gentle against his cheek, bringing him back from his nightmare. He wants to turns his cheek into that caress, to press his face into her palm. He doesn’t, and she drops her hand. The absence of her touch aches. “I’m okay.”

Mako studies him a moment, not sure if to trust his word. Then she nods and her mouth curves, a slow-blooming smile of warmth and pride that lingers, even after she looks back at the road. And Raleigh’s heart hammers against his chest, a sudden lump in his throat that he can barely swallow around.

He’d thought this curl in his belly was just lust – appetite, plain and simple, easily satisfied.

He’s starting to realise it’s not.

Seven billion people in the world, most of them Raleigh’s type, and the one whose fingers tangle in his heartstrings is Pentecost’s daughter.


	8. Past Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any S.H.I.E.L.D. character, bookstore AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Colls on my DW long, long ago.
> 
> I've been absent a while due to a broken fingertip, which makes typing a little awkward. This has been sitting around for a while, and only needed a slight polish to get it decent.

Phil wasn’t exactly surprised when Maria turned up at sunset, just as he went to look again at the burned out husk of the mobile lending library.

“It was a good idea.”

“Was,” Phil murmured. “But not anymore?”

“Fury was the glue holding the spine together,” she points out. “With him gone, there aren’t too many people willing to take on the job of sticking all the pages back together and in the right place.”

Phil glanced at her, noting the business suit and the grim expression. “How’s it going, working for Stark Publishing? You never much liked slush piles.”

“Still don’t,” she shrugged. “But there’s the occasional gem in the mix and Pepper and I share war stories at the end of the week. But you’re not interested in that.”

He stared at the burned out husk – his...well, not his life’s work. His after-life? “I want to rebuild.”

“Rebuild? With what?”

Phil looked at her, at the faintly disbelieving expression on her face. It seemed plain enough that she didn’t think he could. Even taught and skilled as she was, she didn’t see the need. Maybe it was a function of her age – the digital generation: or those young enough to adapt to it – the books themselves weren’t important, so long as the passing of knowledge continued.

Phil could adapt. He had before. But he thought links to the past were important, too – that it was important to have the tangible, the physical, and not just the information. And that some things should be unchanging, reassuringly solid - not editable and untraceable with some metadata fudging.

“With whatever’s left. Whatever I can scrape together.”

“Well, you’ve still got your team. Most of them.”

“Most of them,” he echoed, thinking of Ward’s betrayal, Fitz’s injury. But Ward was behind bars, and Fitz was being seen to by the best they could find. It wasn’t as much as Phil wanted, but he’d learned long ago that he wasn’t going to get everything he wanted and to make do with what he had. Or with what he could scrape up.

Maria was surveying the burned-out RV, no longer with the eye of someone looking at trash, but with the eye of someone willing to rebuild.

“Any resources you can lend me?”

She looked at him, smiling. “Will I get any of them back before the due date?”

“Depends,” Phil shrugged. “I may need to renew them a couple of times.”

“Or take a permanent loan?” Maria exhaled with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”


	9. Something Borrowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako looks good in blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea who requested this, or how it came to be, but I found it in my 'finished stories' folder, dated back in April...

They have an agreement.

When going into a situation Raleigh always takes the position that presents the possibility of the greatest injury.

"It's nothing to do with you being a woman," he says bluntly the first time the matter comes up – during the hostage situation which disguises the heist next door. "I can take a lot more damage than you can and keep going."

Mako was never going to argue the point – sending Raleigh in first gives her that moment's advantage, the advance intel that might save her life. However, she finds it curious that he calculated her likely to object. She's always imagined herself as a practical and pragmatic woman – not prone to fits of pride. She's not Chuck, after all.

It doesn't prey on her thoughts, but she wonders about it a little from time to time.

She wonders about a lot of things.

She wonders about the news that the American police forces have withdrawn the 'silicon soul' models from active duty, replacing them with the more 'robotic standard' MX-43s. She wonders why the Captain was reluctant to authorise her partnership with Raleigh, even after she ran the personality algorithms and found him to be the best match out of the deactivated models available for her use. And she wonders why the file on Detective Yancy Becket – Raleigh's former partner – is sealed.

"Lot of action going on in there."

Mako blinks and frowns at the place across the road which she and Raleigh have been watching for the last hour. "What do you mean? Nobody has gone in or out since we got here."

Raleigh smiles, tapping his forehead before pointing at her. "I mean in there," he says. "You've got your thinking wrinkle on."

"My thinking wrinkle?"

"You get this little crease just _here_ ," he traces a line between his eyebrows, "when you're studying evidence or contemplating how you'd take something apart. When you're concentrating."

Mako immediately smooths her brow out. "There is a great deal to think about right now."

"I feel I should be ashamed that I’m such a bad lunch date."

"If this was a lunch date, you would have reason," Mako counters, smiling. "Or not. I am not a very good date."

"Why would you think—?" His expression grows cold. "Hansen."

"He was right. I wasn't very attentive."

"He's full of shit." Raleigh reaches across the table and puts his hand over hers. "I bet you had a case on your mind."

"Yes, but—"

"But nothing. You solve problems, Mako. That's what you're good at – why else would the Captain have put you on the Syndicate Taskforce? And if Hansen wasn't good enough to keep your attention…"

Mako drags her gaze away from Raleigh. The synthetic soul model ranges were developed to look human, to act human, to mimic human cues, and to learn from their experiences and interactions with humans.

Sometimes, she thinks, the MX designers and developers succeeded rather better than they could ever have imagined. The hand resting over hers is a little cooler than human flesh, not quite soft enough for human skin, but his tone of voice and the expression on his face is perfect – earnest and intent, reassuring…even with a hint of admiration…

Movement in the doorway they've been watching catches her attention. "Raleigh, look."

His eyes flick behind her, and it takes her a moment to realise he's probably using the reflection off the glass door to see what's happening.

“Four males, late twenties to early thirties,” he says and turns to look out the window, almost casually. But there’s nothing casual about the narrow-eyed look he gives them. “I’m uplinking their images to the net…”

Mako barely hears him. Her gaze is not on the four in the doorway, but the one who’s appeared at the upstairs balcony. She turns her head aside with a hiss. “Hannibal Chau!”

It’s barely a whisper of air, but Raleigh pauses and the blue of his eyes intensifies for a moment. “The crime kingpin?”

“The crime kingpin turned _informant_ ,” Mako mutters. “Raleigh, this is not good – he should not be anywhere near this part of town, let alone dealing with these men. And he knows me by sight.”

“You’re across a busy street, behind glass, and there’s no way—” Raleigh breaks off, planting his hands on the table. “We’re made. What’s our best exit?”

“Out through the kitchen.” Mako doesn’t spare the time to glance through the window; she just stands. If Raleigh feels they need an exit, she will trust his judgement.

That is what being partners means, after all.

The cashier objects as they duck behind the counter. Mako scoops a handful of notes and coins out of her pocket – more than enough to pay for their meal – and puts it in the woman’s hands, silencing her long enough to duck past. Raleigh’s hand is on her arm, propelling her ahead of him. Under the shouts and protests of the cooks, she hears him explaining in fluent Cantonese that they are police officers and just going out the back.

Through the kitchen and out the back door they go. The alleyway is foul with the mingling scents of old rubbish, cigarette smoke, and urine, but the shouts inside indicate that their pursuers are hard on their tails.

“They will be moving to cut us off,” Mako says, as she heads down the alleyway towards the closer road. “We can lose them in the shopping crowds towards Langham Place.”

“And there’ll be more whites there.”

Mako did not say it. The advantage of a pretty white MX partner is that he is useful for charming certain types of people – by and large, people respond positively to Raleigh. The disadvantage is that he is harder to lose in a Hong Kong crowd – even in the year 2045.

Taller and broader, Raleigh also finds it more difficult to fit in the gaps that Mako instinctively takes in the crush and bustle of the city. As they bustle in the midst of the crowds, it only takes half a block for her to realise that he is not keeping up, somehow caught behind the shuffling gaits of the more elderly locals who are presently out and about on the streets in the midmorning.

His last assignment before decommisioning was in Anchorage, Alaska, and he has only been in Hong Kong a few weeks. The maps in his head may tell him where he is, but he lacks the experience of moving smoothly through the streets.

After two years in Hong Kong, Mako knows how to wend her way through crowds.

Their pursuers are too close – although struggling to see them beyond a group of white businessmen who have conveniently stopped in the middle of the path to shake hands and flag down a taxi.

Mako grabs Raleigh’s sleeve and pulls him into a nearby shop of fabric bolts and displayed gowns. “Stay close to me,” she says, more sharp than sympathetic.

“I’d like nothing better.” he returns, and slides his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together with a broad grin. Mako frowns, about to ask what this new behaviour means.

“ _Can I help you? Are you looking for a dress?_ ”

The proprietor emerges from the back – a middle-aged woman with a sharp and penetrating gaze as she sizes up the two of them in a single glance, then focuses more sharply on Mako. “ _Hm. For the wedding photos, then?_ ”

Mako’s mouth opens. And closes. The reason for Raleigh folding her hand into his becomes arrantly clear as she looks around the shop, and her gaze picks out the elaborate – and somewhat dated – dresses up on the walls.

“ _She looks good in blue,_ ” Raleigh offers with suspicious cheer. “ _Something the colour of her hair._ ”

Mako gives him the most filthy look she has in her collection as the shopkeeper bustles off. “Blue?”

“Chau’s people won’t be looking for a couple of cops in a wedding dress shop. Besides,” Raleigh tugs at one of her dyed sidelocks, the gesture affectionate and very human. “I think you look good in blue.”

Chau’s people do not find them.

And Mako _does_ look good in blue.


End file.
